Life After the Castle
by IrishIsis
Summary: [I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith] Cassandra has been living a quiet, peaceful life. What happens when her past comes back and disrupts her tranquility?
1. Prologue

Author's Note: I Capture the Castle is a wonderful novel by Dodie Smith that should not be missed. This story is a (rather poor) continuation of that story. I hope, however, that you enjoy it. Please review!

Disclaimer: I could never hope to measure up to Dodie Smith.

LIFE AFTER THE CASTLE

PROLOGUE

It had been years since Cassandra'd last seen them, or even thought of them, really. But, for some reason, she awoke that morning with memories of that year. The year when everything changed...

She'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be in love. Almost. One can never completely forget. Though a small part of her still loved Simon, time had dulled the emotion.

He never came back to England like he promised.

Rose still wrote every once in a while. She'd write of her great adventures in America with Neil. "Everything is so very big in America," she'd once written. Her joy was evident throughout her letters. Cassandra was always happy for her sister, though disappointed that she herself didn't have any exciting adventures.

That was what her stories were for. In them, she could travel to exotic places, live a thousand lives, and forget all her problems.

Critics had accused her of following in her father's footsteps. They said she was as much of a recluse as he had been. She scoffed at the comparison. She wrote diligently, unlike her father, who'd read detective novels for the majority of his life. She'd already had two novels published while he'd only ever finished Jacob Wrestling. He'd died before finishing his second book.

After his death, Topaz returned to London to continue her career, leaving her stepchildren behind. Cassandra was quite old enough to take care of herself, as well as Thomas. At least, that was Topaz's reasoning. "I must, however, inspire others." With that, she left.

Indeed, Cassandra was quite capable of looking after herself and her younger brother. Thomas continued his education, eventually going to a prestigious university.

As for Stephen, she hadn't spoken to him since the day he'd left and said, "I won't come back." He never did. She did see his face occasionally, however, when she went to watch a movie. He really was quite a good actor.

So, after not giving much thought to any of these people for quite some time, it seemed odd that she should think of them now.

Perhaps it was the weather. The sky was so impossibly blue, she couldn't help but remember bathing in the glorious sunshine that fateful year. Perhaps there was no rhyme or reason for her remembrance of those days.

She rose out of bed, planning to write outside for the day. She lifted her heavy typewriter. It had become the one thing she could not part with. She always brought it with her.

She left the confines of the castle and sat in the shade of a large tree. Observing the castle, Cassandra could see it was still as dilapidated as it ever was. That only made it more picturesque.

She breathed in the beauty of the day, letting inspiration fill her. She closed her eyes. The peacefulness of her surroundings soothed her. Her fingers were just about to type a few words when a far-off noise distracted her.

"What could that possibly be?" she asked herself.

She stood and tried to locate the sound. As it approached, nearer and nearer, she realized it was a car... and it was heading straight for Scoatney Hall...

This prologue was rather short. (Sorry!) I hope you all liked it! And please, please, PLEASE send me reviews!


	2. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I Capture the Castle is a wonderful novel by Dodie Smith that should not be missed. This story is a (rather poor) continuation of that story. I hope, however, that you enjoy it. Please review!

Disclaimer: I could never hope to measure up to Dodie Smith.

LIFE AFTER THE CASTLE

CHAPTER ONE

Except for the housekeeper and the few other people who worked there, nobody went to Scoatney. The car heading in its direction looked much too expensive to belong to any one of them.

Cassandra's curiosity was sparked. She followed the car from a distance, hoping to soon find out the identity of the visitor.

A small part of her, one that she would never acknowledge, hoped against hope that Scoatney's master had finally returned. Most likely, however, it was a tourist who'd taken a wrong turn. Still any mystery at all was a welcomed relief from the monotonous cycle of everyday life.

Hidden behind a small grove, Cassandra saw the vehicle stop. The front passenger opened his door and slowly got out of the car, as if he was taking note of all his surroundings. When he turned, Cassandra became mute with shock. She would have recognized that mustache anywhere... it belonged to none other than Simon Cotton!

Cassandra was even more surprised when the identity of the driver was revealed...

"Stephen?" The name involuntarily slipped out of her mouth, so great was her astonishment. Simon, being the owner of Scoatney could be expected to come eventually, but why was Stephen here?

At the sound of the name both men turned to face her.

"Cassandra?" Stephen seemed just as surprised to see her, though she didn't know why. After all, she didn't live very far away.

Hiding seemed pointless now. Cassandra stepped forward. "Hello, Stephen."

Physically, he seemed very much the same as she'd last seen him. The Greek god in him was still very well represented. However, the slightly shy boy she'd known before was gone. He'd been replaced by a worldly man. Cassandra didn't quite know what to make of the transformation.

"Nice to see you again, Miss Cassandra." Stephen made a point of saying "Miss" before her name. She'd once asked him to drop the formality. For some reason she couldn't explain, Cassandra felt hurt that he had used the word.

She turned to Simon and offered him the same greeting she'd given Stephen.

Simon smiled in return. "Well, I see you've grown since we've last met... and been very busy, I hear. Are you working on your third book?"

Cassandra was surprised that Simon had kept track of her all this time. He certainly hadn't tried to keep in touch. "I'm waiting for inspiration at the moment."

"I hope you find it." The words seemed to have a double meaning, though Cassandra couldn't decipher the other. After a short pause, Simon continued, "Why don't you come inside? We have a lot to catch up on. I want a personal account of your literary success."

Cassandra looked from one man to the other. Stephen's face was difficult to read, but he looked less than thrilled to have her there. She wondered at what she'd done to have gained his bad opinion. Simon, on the other hand, seemed eager to reminisce with her. All in all, she thought it best to decline the invitation. She had no wish to go anywhere where she was not completely wanted.

"I'm sure you'd both like to settle in a bit, first, before you have guests over. Maybe some other time?"

"Of course," replied Simon.

She glanced at Stephen on last time before turning back. He was as expressionless as he'd been all along. Cassandra still couldn't make out what he was thinking. She decided to give up trying.

As she walked back toward the castle, she reviewed her encounter with Simon and Stephen. How odd that she'd just wondered about them that morning. Questions also flooded her mind. Why was Stephen very... different towards her? Was he just INdifferent? And what of Simon? Did she still have feelings for him? She planned to sort out her thoughts and feelings once at home.

Unknown to Cassandra was the fact that Stephen was watching her retreat to her castle. His face was no longer blank; it was filled with longing. He'd never stopped loving Cassandra, but his years of acting experience had taught him to mask his feelings well.

"Now's your chance to do something about it," said Simon.

Stephen turned to look at him.

"I've seen that look before," Simon continued. "I used to have it myself." He gave a weak smile. "Now's your chance to make something happen."

"I know," replied Stephen.

Wow. I did NOT end up where I thought I would. I hope that's okay with you guys. (nervous smile) Well, please review and tell me what you think!

tesefel- Well, I finally updated... so please don't kill me... lol

Karma's Pet- I'm glad you like it so far! Don't worry about not having read the book... I'm writing this with the book and the movie in mind...


	3. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I Capture the Castle is a wonderful novel by Dodie Smith that should not be missed. This story is a (rather poor) continuation of that story. I hope, however, that you enjoy it. Please review!

Disclaimer: I could never hope to measure up to Dodie Smith.

LIFE AFTER THE CASTLE

CHAPTER TWO

It wasn't until Cassandra was settled in her favorite chair with a cup of tea that she thought to wonder why Simon had returned to Scoatney... and with Stephen of all people. How had they become such close acquaintances, anyway? It certainly wasn't a pairing that she would have imagined. After all, she rejected the love of one to try to gain the love of the other. That kind of action wasn't known for producing strong bonds of friendship between two men.

Still, if Stephen had ever been jealous, it was without a doubt a thing of the past. Stephen's cool, indifferent manner had made that perfectly clear to Cassandra. She was obviously no longer, if she had ever been, an obstacle to hinder Stephen and Simon's friendship.

Still, the question remained: why were they both here now?

Cassandra wrinkled her brows. She searched her mind for possible answers. Maybe Simon had tired of owning Scoatney without living in it for so long and had decided to sell it to Stephen, who was well able to afford the place now. But, that didn't seem very likely. Simon would never sell Scoatney Hall; he loved it too dearly.

Perhaps, after a long nostalgic chat, the two had simply decided to revisit Scoatney Hall, for old times' sake. Cassandra could picture Simon, with pipe in hand, turning to Stephen and saying, "You know, I'd rather like to visit Scoatney Hall again." Stephen, who had a pipe of his own, blew out a large, curling puff of smoke, and said, "I quite agree with you. Let us leave tomorrow morning."

Cassandra grinned at the absolutely ridiculous scenario her imagination had produced. Reaching for her typewriter, she decided to put it to good use.

OoOoO

"Well, it's just as I remembered it," commented Simon, taking in his surroundings. Everything from the chandeliers to the marble floors was impeccably clean, though slightly worn by time. "The staff here really took care of the place."

"Yes they did," Stephen replied shortly.

Simon glanced at Stephen. There was no doubt in Simon's mind that Stephen's unfriendliness was a direct result of his recent meeting with Cassandra. He was, however, surprised at the extend of Stephen's negative mood. After all, Cassandra had been very pleasant to both of them. Any and all rudeness had been entirely on Stephen's side. Still, Simon understood the bitterness of disappointed love.

Deciding it was best to simply ignore Stephen's state of melancholy, Simon went straight to business... "So, will the place do? Will Scoatney Hall become the setting for Stephen Colly's new sensational film?"

Stephen's ears grew pink around the edges. "It will hardly be sensational..."

"Oh come now," said Simon with a gentle smile, "it is sure to be very successful and cause a great deal of commotion among critics and audiences alike. Is that not the very definition of sensational?" Stephen gave a weak smile in response. "In vague seriousness, though, are you sure you want to film the movie here? There are hundreds of more beautiful and polished locations in England. Don't you think Scoatney is a bit too... dull?"

For once, Stephen did not hesitate. "Of course it isn't too dull. It's perfect. I wouldn't have the movie take place anywhere else."

Noticing Stephen's immediate defensiveness, Simon pronounced, with a hint of humor, "Scoatney Hall it is, then."

OoOoO

Cassandra ached all over. Three straight hours of typing had its disadvantages. But, minor joint discomfort, as Cassandra liked to think of it, was a small sacrifice for the feeling of having accomplished something. And she had definitely accomplished something.

She looked upon her twenty-page stack with a surge of satisfaction. She knew that less than a page of what she had written would survive the brutal editing process, but she did not care at the moment. Inspiration had come to her, and she had made the most of it. What could be more gratifying?

Suddenly, Cassandra heard a knock on the front door. The thud rang through the castle with a dull echo. Cassandra, who wasn't used to having very many guests, was caught off-guard by the sound. Her surprise soon turned into excitement, however. Perhaps Simon was her mystery caller...

As Cassandra moved closer, the knocking became more and more insistent. The visitor was obviously frustrated with her slow progress. Fearing some emergency had arisen, Cassandra made an effort to quicken her pace. Before she could reach the door, however, it was thrown open. The visitor rushed into the castle and slammed into Cassandra with such momentum that they found themselves lying on the floor.

Out of breath, Cassandra waited a moment before pulling herself into an upright position. She had every intention to ask the intruder, for he was certainly a visitor no longer, if such an entrance was really necessary.

He, however, spoke first. "Sorry, Cassandra. I know I should have just waited outside for you to get the door, but you're always so slow. You're almost as bad as Father was..."

Shocked at the familiar voice, Cassandra looked up. "Thomas? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at school?" Before Thomas could reply, Cassandra asked, with a look of absolute horror, "You haven't run away, have you?"

"Of course I haven't run away. For goodness' sake, Cassandra, don't you know me at all?"

Cassandra was both relieved and puzzled. "Then, why are you here?"

"Why, for the film of course! I couldn't possibly stay away from all that excitement."

"Film?"

Thomas looked at Cassandra's blank expression with an air of skepticism. "You mean you haven't heard?"

Cassandra shook her head.

"Well, Stephen's decided to make his movie right here... at Scoatney Hall!"

I know I haven't updated in almost a year, and for that, I am truly sorry. Thanks, though, to all of you have reviewed despite my lack of updates (What's Their Name, Angela Dawne, Professional scatterbrain, Your Hero, and dancingwithreality). Special thanks to Ever1 for giving me the best review I've ever had. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter (if you haven't given up on the story---although I'd understand if you did). Reviews are, as always, much appreciated. (By the way, the phrase "in vague seriousness" actually comes from Jack Davenport on the Pirates of the Caribbean commentary track. I've always loved that phrase; I couldn't help using it.)


	4. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I Capture the Castle is a wonderful novel by Dodie Smith that should not be missed. This story is a (rather poor) continuation of that story. I hope, however, that you enjoy it. Please review!

Disclaimer: I could never hope to measure up to Dodie Smith.

LIFE AFTER THE CASTLE

CHAPTER THREE

"A movie? At Scoatney Hall?" Cassandra could only repeat Thomas's words. It was as if her mind couldn't process their meaning.

"Precisely. Now, do you have any food around? I'm feeling rather hungry..." Not waiting for a reply, Thomas directed himself toward the kitchen. Cassandra, who was still stunned at everything that had happened in the last five minutes, simply followed and mumbled that she'd make some tea.

Upon opening the kitchen cabinets, Thomas exclaimed, "Goodness, these are all empty!" After a few more futile seconds of rummaging, Thomas finally came upon a lonely box of biscuits. It was liberally coated with dust and had obviously been there a long time. "I say, Cassandra, you haven't been taking care of yourself properly. I do believe these are Father's biscuits."

"Nonsense..." replied Cassandra, though she had a strong suspicion that Thomas was right about the biscuits. "I just haven't found the time to go to the village. I was planning on going tomorrow..." she lied weakly.

"I shushesht you go ash shoon ash poshible," said Thomas with his mouth full, crumbs tumbling out with every word. "Ugh... thesh bishcuitsh are terrible!" Despite his words, Thomas did not slow down his eating pace and continued to eat the entire contents of the tin box.

Cassandra, meanwhile, focused on making tea and collecting her thoughts. She had never dreamed that Scoatney Hall would become a movie location. The fact that Stephen and Simon had come back for this reason seemed more unlikely than any of the scenarios she had imagined.

By the time she had finished pouring a cup of tea for Thomas, she was ready to ask the thousands of questions that had rushed to her brain. "Thomas... why on earth are they filming a movie at Scoatney Hall? I mean, there are so many other places. Why Scoatney Hall in particular?"

Thomas, who seemed more inclined to speak after his snack, took a sip of tea and said, "Apparently Stephen wanted the movie to be here. He told the director that it would be the perfect setting."

Cassandra wrinkled her brows. "But why would the director listen to Stephen? I know how famous Stephen is, but surely it is not his place to find a location. It must be somebody else's responsibility, mustn't it?"

Thomas simply shrugged in response. "I don't see who would have more of a right to choose the setting. After all, it's Stephen's story."

"What? Stephen wrote the story?" By this point, Cassandra felt like an especially dim parrot.

"Yes, he wrote the script. It's the first time he's tried writing, or so I'm told. I wonder if he's any good at it... Probably not. Let's just hope he hasn't plagiarized the whole thing like he used to with your poems..."

Cassandra's shoulders tensed. "How do you know about the poems he gave me?"

"Oh come on, Cassandra, don't be so naive." Cassandra flinched at the word. She could still remember Simon accusing her of being "consciously naive." She hated to prove him right. "Everyone knew about Stephen's poems. Such a pity he never applied himself and tried to write something original, although I suppose he's making up for lost time. Anyway, I don't much care for movie scripts. I find most of them very shallow and dull. The dialogues hardly promote character development. No, I'm much more interested in the actual mechanics of filming..."

Thomas went on to say how he found the process of capturing a sequence of events and being able to project this sequence onto a screen "absolutely fascinating." Cassandra, however, was much more interested in the details of the shoot than in the particulars of the filming process. "Do you know when filming is to start?"

"Oh probably any day now. I saw some of the equipment being driven to Scoatney when I came here. I'm sure it'll all make quite a stir in the village."

"I'm sure it will," agreed Cassandra.

OoOoO

Sitting at his desk, Stephen reread his script for the twentieth time, trying to make some last minute revisions. At this point his nerves had reached an all-time high, and his spirits had reached an all-time low. To Stephen, his script was a disaster. Every word he had written now seemed wrong and out of place. There was an overall lack of pace to the whole story; some scenes were too sappy and dramatic while others were painfully dull. He had no idea how to salvage the piece; it was beyond repair.

Tossing his script, Stephen let out an exasperated sigh and buried his head in his hands. "What am I doing?" he mumbled to himself. "What have I gotten myself into?"

Writing a script had seemed like such a wonderfully exciting idea at first. Stephen had very quickly tired of the standard boy-meets-girl, or rather girl-meets-boy, storylines that had defined his career. The stories were the same, the characters were the same, the dialogues were the same... his movies were so similar that they had started to blend together in his mind. Stephen longed to do something different, something original. Writing his own script was the perfect solution.

Stephen glanced at the packet of papers he had thrown aside. Why was he so frustrated and discouraged _now_? Only a month ago, when he had finally finished writing, he had believed his work to be absolutely fantastic. It had everything anybody could want: adventure, humor, even a little romance. The director Stephen had spoken to had loved it. For once in his life, Stephen felt he had something that he could truly be proud of.

But now, as the moment of truth drew near, his confidence began to falter. He could see the numerous flaws in his script, and he was overwhelmed by the prospect of trying to fix them. It was too late, anyway, to change anything. Shooting would start any day. Stephen felt completely defeated.

A knock sounded on Stephen's door, and he called "come in" without much enthusiasm. Simon's head popped into the room, "Hard at work, I see. How is the revision process going?"

"Terribly," replied Stephen. He had reached the stage where denial was pointless.

Simon entered the room and closed the door behind him. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

"No, I suppose it could be worse... but it could be so much better! I know I could do better, I just don't know how."

Stephen didn't know how else to express his feelings, but Simon seemed to understand. "What you need," Simon began, "is some help. You are, after all, only a beginner in the literary field. You need the input of a professional, someone with years of experience..."

"Who did you have in mind?" asked Stephen in a hoarse voice, but they both knew the answer.

Well, there's another chapter. I found this one a challenge to write; don't know why, though. Anyway, hope you guys liked it. As always, thanks to the reviewers. (By the way, I realized how confusing the repeating Ooo's were only AFTER I posted the last chapter. I've now changed the format of the scene breaks. Sorry for the confusion.)


	5. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I Capture the Castle is a wonderful novel by Dodie Smith that should not be missed. This story is a (rather poor) continuation of that story. I hope, however, that you enjoy it. Please review!

Disclaimer: I could never hope to measure up to Dodie Smith.

LIFE AFTER THE CASTLE

CHAPTER FOUR

Realizing that she desperately did need to go to the village or risk slowly starving to death, Cassandra rode her bicycle to the town square. It was a particularly crisp morning, one where everything felt alive and fresh. Even the air seemed rejuvenated.

As Cassandra passed the townspeople, she noticed the added bounce to their step. Obviously, it was the news of filming at Scoatney Hall, and not the weather, that lightened the villagers' mood.

The whole town was buzzing with anticipation. Neighbors were animatedly speaking to each other, sharing the latest gossip. The village children gathered at the main intersection, waiting impatiently for a glimpse of a movie star. Even the town's elders could be seen peeping out of their windows sporadically. Cassandra hadn't seen such a commotion since Miss Winter's kitchen curtains had accidentally caught on fire. Still, even on that occasion, the flames had been quickly extinguished, and the villagers' interest had been nearly as brief. This event was certainly producing excitement on a much grander scale.

Cassandra sharply turned the front wheel of her bicycle and came to a neat, sudden halt directly in front of the general store. The place was much more crowded than usual, especially considering it was merely a Wednesday. Its central location in the town, though, made it the ideal meeting ground for folk to gather and speculate about the latest goings-on. Cassandra conceded that Scoatney Hall being chosen as a film location was quite thrilling, but in her opinion, the villagers were clearly overreacting. There was no reason to make such a fuss over a simple movie!

Hoping to slip into the store unnoticed, Cassandra saw one who was unfortunate enough to have fallen victim to the chattering masses. The vicar, with a slight grimace on his face, appeared to be politely attempting to extricate himself from the company of the respectable Mrs. Bartleby. "I certainly hope this will not be a scandalous film!" she said in a rather shrill voice. "How poorly that would reflect upon our dignified village and its residents!"

Cassandra inwardly winced at the vicar's predicament. She certainly would not wish to endure the rantings of Mrs. Bartleby, despite her status as one of the town's most well-regarded members of society. Quickly, Cassandra set about her task of gathering suitable provisions, including eggs, bread, butter, and the like, before she could fall prey to one of the gossips.

She gave a small smile to the cashier as she received her change and rushed to the door as discreetly as possible. She was on the verge of opening it when someone behind her called her name.

"Cassandra!"

Exhaling a sigh of relief, Cassandra turned to greet her friend Jane Crosby. "Jane! How are you?"

Jane had just recently come to the village after the premature death of her parents. One evening, the two were on their way home from a lavish late-night party. It was very dark and rainy, and Jane's father had great difficulty controlling the car under the conditions. In the end, the vehicle swerved away from the road and crashed into a tree. Both parents died upon the impact.

Despite her parents' rather tragic end, Jane was an excitable and congenial girl. She had wild, light-brown hair and a rosy face that was prone to smiling. As a true city-dweller, however, and one unaccustomed to small village life, she was quite candid and always spoke her mind. This quality never ceased to shock the Mrs. Bartlebys of the town. Miss Marcy, Jane's aunt and new guardian, had been approached on the subject more than once. "You must take care, Miss Marcy, to better control that young charge of yours and her... opinions!" Miss Marcy, with a half-hidden smile hovering on her lips, would calmly reply, "I shall certainly let Jane know of your sentiments, Mrs. Bartleby."

At the moment, Jane features were torn between amusement and incredulity. "I'm well, but I do not think I can say as much for the rest of the town. They seem to have gone completely mad!"

Cassandra laughed and guided her friend out of the door, leaving the "madness" behind. "It does all seem rather out of hand, doesn't it? All the speculation?"

"I should say!" said Jane. "I had to hear a half hour discussion between Susan Marks and Deborah Keene on whether or not Erin Greeley and Stephen Colly, who according to the two girls in question were the handsomest couple in the history of cinema, would be staring in the movie."

"We shall see, I suppose," replied Cassandra, suddenly ill-at-ease with the thought of Erin Greeley sharing the spotlight with Stephen.

Wanting to change the subject, she continued, "In the meantime, would you like to join me for tea?" She indicated the items she had just purchased. "I finally have enough food to last at least one decent meal."

In a dramatically polite tone, Jane replied, "Madam, I would be honored," before she burst with restrained giggles.

Upon reaching the castle, the girls had hardly entered the haphazardly-kept home before Thomas yelled, "Cassandra! We've been waiting f- Oh." Seeing that his sister had company, and female company at that, he immediately froze. "Miss Crosby. Wonderful to see you again." Thomas's ears grew bright crimson.

Jane's face appeared to have turned a similar shade of red. "Likewise, Mr. Mortmain."

Cassandra looked from her brother to her friend, surprised that she had never seen the attraction there before. She had never contemplated the idea that Thomas might be interested in a certain young lady. It was something she hadn't expected of her studious younger brother. But, boys were boys, after all, and Jane Crosby was certainly an excellent choice. Cassandra was happy for the both of them and thankful that their feelings were mutual, knowing from experience that sentiments are not always reciprocated.

She cleared her throat, and Thomas shook his head a bit, as if awakening from a trance. "What was it that you wanted to tell me?"

Almost on cue, Stephen stepped out of the hall and into the shabby room, his eyes not quite meeting Cassandra's. "I have a favor to ask of you."

I hadn't updated this story in almost a year, but I started to miss it. Thank you to wild-vixen and all of my other reviewers for pushing me to continue. Let me know what you think! (I am also working on a story called Wimbledon vs. World Cup at the moment, so it will take me a little longer to update. Reviews might make me write faster, though... hint, hint lol)


	6. Chapter 5

Author's Note: I Capture the Castle is a wonderful novel by Dodie Smith that should not be missed. This story is a (rather poor) continuation of that story. I hope, however, that you enjoy it. Please review!

Disclaimer: I could never hope to measure up to Dodie Smith.

LIFE AFTER THE CASTLE

CHAPTER FIVE

What Stephen could possibly want from her, Cassandra could not guess. He had given off the impression of almost resenting her presence; asking for something from her seemed completely out of character. What could have possibly happened to make him desperate enough to come to her?

Before she could ponder the situation further or ask him to clarify his request, Stephen cleared his throat and attempted to explain. "You see, I don't know if you've heard, although you probably have, but I'm filming a movie at Scoatney- well, I'm not actually filming it; I'm acting in it. Well, that and… other things. But, what I mean is… um… well…" Obviously flustered, he stopped and took a deep breath to calm himself down.

Thomas took advantage of Stephen's pause in speech to turn to Jane, whose jaw had dropped and eyes had filled with awe as soon as Stephen had appeared, and said, "It's such a nice day outside. Why don't we go for a swim in the moat? The water must be perfect!" Thomas energetically grabbed Jane's arm and pulled her away, despite her weak, and somewhat incoherent, protestations.

Cassandra watched with amusement and sympathy as the two left. She remembered another occasion when a nice swim had been suggested. No doubt both Thomas and Jane would regret their decision once immersed in the frigid water.

Focusing once again on Stephen, she decided to put him out of his misery, or at least his awkwardness, by asking him directly, "Alright, so what is this all really about?"

With a pained expression, Stephen revealed his purpose. "I wrote the script for the film, and I was wondering if you could read it and tell me what you think. Maybe let me know what I should change a bit."

Still, Cassandra had the feeling he was holding something back. Remembering something her brother had said, her stomach turned. "Stephen… you haven't plagiarized the script, have you?" She tried to ask the question as discreetly as possible, but the words were simply too blunt to be eloquently phrased.

Stephen turned slightly pale but hastily replied, "No." Then, he reticently added, "Well…" Cassandra's eyes, clouded with apprehension, snapped to meet his. "Would you just read it?" he pleaded, with a hint of impatience in his voice. "Please?" he added, in a softer tone.

Despite not being wholly reassured, she relented. "Alright, fine. Do you have it with you?" Stephen produced the bundle of papers, and Cassandra proceeded to adjust herself to a comfortable sitting position. Upon seeing the title, her eyebrows lifted in surprise, but after that initial shock, they remained squinted in concentration. Never once did she look up from the pages.

Meanwhile Stephen, who felt as if being judged somehow, could not bear to hold still. All around the room he strolled, pausing to look at one item and then another. Occasionally, his gaze would stray to Cassandra. He had never seen anyone so completely engrossed before. He knew her concentration was due to her dedication to the writing process and not to his skills as a literary entertainer, but, still, the fact that she hadn't thrown the sheets to the ground in disgust was encouraging.

Finally, Cassandra's head lifted. Stephen looked at her expectantly, but she seemed incapable of forming words, or at least of finding the right ones. "Stephen," she began tentatively, "I don't really know where to start."

"Is it really that bad?" he attempted to say in a light tone.

"No." She still seemed to be searching for the exact phrases in which to convey her sentiments. "In fact, the writing is quite good. Certainly much better than the standard movie picture. All the elements are there… excitement, romance, witty dialogue…"

"But?" Stephen voiced the word that so obviously hung in the air.

"But… it isn't real, Stephen." She silently begged him to understand what she was saying. "I know what you're trying to do, and it's sweet, but it just isn't real."

Trying a different tactic, she continued, "Look, I'm absolutely flattered that anybody would find my life interesting enough to write about, let alone film, but… you just can't distort the facts like that!"

"I only changed a few things," he replied defensively.

"I'm married to Simon!"

"Well, maybe you would be if you'd gone to America with him!"

"Oh Stephen," Cassandra uttered miserably, "things didn't happen that way… and they didn't for a reason. Simon didn't love me, and we didn't get married. Life isn't about tidy, happy endings." Cassandra's demeanor changed slightly as she continued, "And regardless of what happened between Simon and me, how dare you cut yourself out of your own story?"

Stephen shrugged. "I didn't think I was that important."

"Not that important?" repeated Cassandra, her words tinged with anger and disbelief. "Father and Topaz and Rose and Thomas and I were all completely useless. You're the one who did all the work. We couldn't have done without you!"

"It was my privilege," murmured Stephen. For a moment, Cassandra caught glimpse of the Stephen she knew and had grown up with. In an instant, he was gone and once again replaced by the man he had become. "So," he began, but was soon distracted by the sound of a door opening, followed by the quick, rain-like patter of footsteps.

Jane's voice could be heard in the distance. "I can't believe you talked me into going in there!"

"It wasn't that bad," answered Thomas, unable to keep his teeth from chattering.

"If you say that one more time, I'll throw you back in there," snapped Jane. "Come on, let's dry off and start a fire before we both freeze to death."

As the footsteps retreated, Stephen continued, "So, will you help me?"

"Of course I'll help you, Stephen." Cassandra shook her head slightly. "But, you have to change the ending. And I won't let you erase yourself from this story. You deserve to be in it as much as the rest of us."

"If you say so, Cassandra." With that, he turned and left. It wasn't until much later that he realized he'd used only her first name.

Sorry about the wait, everyone!!!! (Also, sorry if there are any mistakes; I wanted to update as soon as possible. I will proofread later today.) Let me know what you think! (Personally, I feel as if I'm getting a bit too sappy... :S)


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